


You're crying out for those that listen (but my son, no one is home)

by Robin1103



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gore, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Stiles, POV Second Person, POV Stiles Stilinski, Panic Attacks, Self Harm, Stiles, Teen Wolf, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-12 14:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15996839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin1103/pseuds/Robin1103
Summary: You try and try and try but you're breaking insideYou don't think you can do this anymore





	You're crying out for those that listen (but my son, no one is home)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write second person stuff but i guess this happened.  
> To make it clear, this is Stiles's POV.

You're shaking, you realise. Your hands are quivering at your sides as you force yourself up to your room. The house is empty and you were too, until you set foot inside. Until your brain recognised home and let the walls break. Home, safe, home, safe. Home, alone. 

You step into your room and take a sharp breath as nothing happens.  


You laugh, somewhat hysterically as you chide yourself for being so stupid. It wasn't as if a mass murderer would be in here, though you're not sure what you would've done if there were. A small part of you whispers that you would've died and you try so hard to ignore the relief that sweeps through you at that thought.

You fail.

Your mind spins you an elaborate tale of you and a man- you don't think about how he looks like you - and a knife. The blood and the stabbing of your empty body.  


Somewhere you recognise that you aren't breathing well but your mind doesn't care. On and on the tale goes until you're crying too, shaking too and gods you can't fucking breathe

You see flashes of gore, blood that sprays everywhere, the glint of a knife, the fear in those eyes. You hear screaming, muted gurgles, the loud chaos of a bomb going off, the angry voices. You hear scratching and sobbing, so much sobbing. 

You look down and there's red dripping from your hands, red under your nails, red painting your body. Your mind screams and so do you. You scream like a raging banshee praying for someone to hear them, and you can't stop. You scream and scream and scream. Until your voice dies and your sobs rise and everything within you comes crashing down.

You're not okay, not by a long shot. Everything is hurting, and you're breaking apart in your room. No one's home, no one is listening, and you feel so alone. 

Part of you wishes the empty was back. Another part of you rages and aches for someone to hear.

The house is quiet; soon enough you are too.


End file.
